from the well-that's-not-very-nice dept

You may have heard the news recently about how a drunk employee of the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency (can't make this crap up) accidentally flew a DJI Phantom II drone onto White House property, leading to a general collective freakout over the security implications of these personal helicopters. In response to this, President Obama has called for more drone regulations -- which may or may not make sense -- but it needs to be remembered that the FAA has been refusing to actually release any rules for quite some time.

"The updated firmware (V3.10) will be released in coming days and adds a No-Fly Zone centered on downtown Washington, DC and extends for a 25 kilometer (15.5 mile) radius in all directions. Phantom pilots in this area will not be able to take off from or fly into this airspace."

Even if you think it's perfectly reasonable to ban drone flights in downtown DC (a different discussion for a different day...), it should be very concerning that the company you bought your product from can magically make it that much less useful on demand without you being able to do a damn thing about it. What if you happen to live in that no-fly zone, and you bought it to use for personal reasons at a local park. You're completely out of luck because an overreaction resulted in the company breaking something you thought you bought.

Sometimes, the fact that devices you buy can be updated on the fly has benefits -- like the stories of Tesla upgrading its cars to make them better even long after people bought them. That's neat. But, it still seems immensely troubling that something you bought can be turned into a paperweight (in certain areas) by the company you bought it from.

from the oh,-when-I-must-have-said-I-wanted-to-'rent'-the-device dept

You can buy it but you can't own it. Digital goods remind us of this fact all the time. But physical goods? Those should be ours. But somehow, they often aren't, especially if the company behind the product is trying oh so hard to lock customers into a closed ecosystem.

Amazon's entry into the streaming device market is the Fire TV, a dense black block that puts its Prime library on your TV, as well as providing access to other popular streaming services (Netflix, Hulu) and a (smallish) assortment of games. But what it won't do -- at least not anymore -- is allow purchasers to root their devices in order to play media stored on USB devices or force it to play nice with Google's Play Store to expand the limited selection of "native" games to justify shelling out $20-40 for the optional gamepad.

“Self destruct” eFuse added to kernel which gets triggered if an older bootloader is used. This means Fire TVs that update to stock 51.1.4.1_user_514013920 can never be downgraded, even if a method to root them is discovered.

So, if you try to make Amazon's Fire TV behave the way you want it to, your device will be irrecoverably bricked. The tripped eFuse won't even let you roll it back to when it worked. For most Amazon TV purchasers, this update came and went without any noticeable effect. But for those making the most of their purchases, this came as a shock. After all, the Fire TV runs a modified version of Android, itself an ostensibly open system. Not only that, but Amazon seemed to encourage this sort of experimentation and modification by making the source code freely available. But its updated firmware took away all of that, locking the gate of its ecosystem and tossing the key -- along with some previously working devices -- into the proverbial sewer grate.

From what I can tell, they did 2 things. First, they added an extra service to the kernel ramdisk that blows an efuse which prevents the old bootloader from working. Second, they modified the bootchain to use that fuse (or maybe a second, I'm not sure) to prevent downgrades. So once a box gets 51.1.4.1 stock, it can never be downgraded.

So, while there are workarounds available now (as well as custom firmware developed by the enthusiasts at XDA Forums), there's been nothing official released by Amazon. The message is clear: play within the walls of our garden or GTFO. With most users opting for automatic updates, the firmware has made the final decision for them. Those who wish to stay rooted will have to do without any critical updates, added content selection, security fixes, etc. that Amazon may provide if they're not fortunate enough to find fixes that work from third parties who are kind enough to unbrick devices that have been forcibly neutered by the proprietor of the walled garden.

Notably, this decision hits hardest the people Amazon should most want on its side: the diehard hobbyists who push the limits of prefab products and show developers the possibilities inherent in their offerings. Equally terrible, it sends the message to purchasers that they don't own their purchases. Car manufacturers (there are exceptions, of course) don't send street teams by to tear off the ridiculous spoiler and neon undercarriage you bolted onto your stock sedan, no matter how ridiculous it makes their product look. They don't remove the tachometer you forced into the dashboard array when you bring it in for an oil change. But for some reason, certain companies still think that they can force your purchased products to play by their rules, long after turning the products over to their new "owners."

Remember how Waterstones was going to sell the Kindle and take a sales commission on the hardware and any ebooks bought from that device? Apparently they decided that the subtle but positive relationship of simply making money off the Kindle wasn't good enough; now they've turned the Kindles they sell into billboards.

The Kindles sold by Waterstones got a firmware update in early November. This update wasn't rolled out to all the Kindles, and for good reason. According to a couple different users (this story has also been confirmed by Waterstones) the only change in the update was a new screensaver.

I have not yet seen it myself, but the Kindle owners are reporting that all the screensavers have been replaced by a Waterstones logo. Furthermore, there's no way to disable or replace that screensaver, so every time these Kindle owners pick up their device they will be reminded where they purchased it.

Advertising on the Kindle is nothing new. The ad-supported version is available at a discount if the buyer's willing to put up with being advertised at in exchange for a price break. But, as The Digital Reader points out, Waterstones-branded Kindles aren't discounted.

Instead, as thanks for purchasing a portable Amazon ecosystem from a brick-and-mortar, Waterstones' customers are now locked into a single screensaver that will constantly remind them who they need to contact for a full refund... which, unbelievably, Waterstones is actually offering.

I am sorry you are disappointed by the addition of a Waterstones screensaver after the recent software update to Kindle. It is our view that this screensaver does not constitute advertising and differs substantially to the advertising-supported Kindles available to the US market. The Waterstones screensaver is a non-dynamic, static image that will change infrequently and not advertise any specific product, offer or website.

It is not possible to remove the Waterstones screensaver to replace it with the former Amazon screensaver. We apologise that this change was made without consultation, and hope it does not detract from or alter your reading experience. However, if you feel it does, please let us know and we will arrange for the return of the device and a full refund.

"There are substantial difficulties for us around working with our major competitor," Daunt said at the Independent Publishers Guild Digital Quarterly Meeting on Tuesday, according to The Bookseller. "But we think we have an agreement which protects some of the most significant bear traps that sit there, and there are some major upsides for us."

Notably, Daunt didn't say that the agreement protects Waterstones from "significant bear traps." Instead, his Freudian slippage states that the traps themselves will be unharmed, even if, as it appears, Waterstones has to trigger the traps on its own.

The deal was never advantageous, what with Waterstones making the most money when purchasers bought ebooks using its in-store wifi network. It's hard to believe this strategy of getting customers into the physical store in hopes that they'd spend part of the time shopping on their Kindles has paid off. Perhaps the always-on "W" is meant to remind customers where they purchased their Kindles and why not go have a look around the bookstore a bit then.

On the plus side, Waterstones customers were threatened withwarned about promised some additional bonuses for their branded Kindles during this rollout announcement:

At yesterday's IPG event, Daunt revealed a few more details about Waterstones' Amazon partnership. "Waterstones-specific Kindle screensavers, bestseller lists and a Read For Free offer are among the plans," The Bookseller reports.

That's a pretty frickin' specific screensaver, Daunt. Shame it changes so "infrequently" as to be completely undetectable.

from the not-cool dept

One of the things that we keep learning in a connected, digital age, is that what you think you "bought" you often don't really own. Companies who sell you products seem to feel a certain freedom to unilaterally change the terms of your purchase, after the fact. I'm reminded of Sony removing key features on the PS3, though there are plenty of other examples. A new one is the story of Cisco, pushing out a firmware update to routers without customer approval and (even worse) having that firmware update block people from logging in directly to their own routers. Apparently, if you don't like it... er... too bad.

Cisco has started automatically pushing the company's new "Cloud Connect" firmware update to consumer routers -- without customer approval. Annoyed users note that the update won't let consumers directly log into their routers anymore -- they have to register for a new Cloud Connect account. The only way to revert to directly accessing the device you paid for? You have to unplug it from the Internet.

Oh, and registering for such an account means you have to agree to give up your data so that Cisco can sell it. As per the terms:

...we may keep track of certain information related to your use of the Service, including but not limited to the status and health of your network and networked products; which apps relating to the Service you are using; which features you are using within the Service infrastructure; network traffic (e.g., megabytes per hour); Internet history; how frequently you encounter errors on the Service system and other related information ("Other Information"). We use this Other Information to help us quickly and efficiently respond to inquiries and requests, and to enhance or administer our overall Service for our customers.

We may also use this Other Information for traffic analysis (for example, determining when the most customers are using the Service) and to determine which features within the Service are most or least effective or useful to you. In addition, we may periodically transmit system information to our servers in order to optimize your overall experience with the Service. We may share aggregated and anonymous user experience information with service providers, contractors or other third parties...

Seems like a good way to drive people into buying routers from other companies. I can see how a "cloud service" could have value, but it should be presented to users as a choice, where the actual benefit to them (if there is one) is clearly presented. Instead, this rollout seems designed solely to benefit Cisco and its partners, rather than the people who bought (or so they thought) their routers.